Reviews

Feeling the chill bite of winter? Longing for languid days of summer haze? Then you're perfectly placed to wrap your ears around the debut release from Solo Sun, aka Dan Solo of The Superimposers, those sunshine-psyche inclined purveyors of perfect dream poppery who went on holiday sometime around 2013 and have yet to return.

Sharing such strong DNA it's little surprise this comes from a similar part of the sun-dappled lido, maybe slightly towards the deeper end, edging just a little further off-kilter. Always thoughtful and rarely wordy, if anything Dan's lyrical interjections on the title track are even more sparing than ever as over an elegant, lush, almost viscous production he breathily intones a series of precision statements about what could and used to be. Musically, this meticulously crafted assemblage invokes the sound of vintage two-inch tape machines and steam-driven electronica, but it's actually a no-budget exercise in petitioning sophistication by getting the most out of a very little - the sonic pinnacle of laptop make-do-and-bend.

The theme is continued on Let It Go with its gentle succession of expectant chord progressions carrying the pastoral lyrical imagery that has become a Solo trademark. More experimental than the lead track, this is as close to blue as music this warm can get and comes complete with an electronic anti-solo that anticipates the song's eventual dissolve.

The closing track, the brooding, wistful The First Day, opens with a loping guitar figure that recalls the subtleties of Michael Carr's original theme for the Edgar Wallace Mysteries before expanding into a broader suggestion of the woozier, more overtly solipsistic moments of The Beatles in their final act.

Whatever happens next, the subtle charms of Solo Sun's first steps auger very well indeed.